


Dusk Falls

by DarkLadyEvannaPotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Avada Kedavra, BAMF Harry Potter, Cruciatus, Dark Harry, Dark Magic, Female Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lady Magic - Freeform, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Multi, Murder, Orphanage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry, Sociopath Harry Potter, Underage - Freeform, some fucked up shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkLadyEvannaPotter/pseuds/DarkLadyEvannaPotter
Summary: Casseopia Potter, the so-called Girl-Who-Lived, was nothing close to the way all the books portrayed her. Coming to the Wizarding World after a long and traumatic childhood, she slowly changes the tune to which the world dances. Snape notices first, then Quirrell, but how long will it take the rest of them to notice?  Will it be too late for the Light? How far is she willing to go to obtain power and how will she stay below the school's radar for as long as she plans?
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange, Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Rabastan Lestrange/Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 224





	1. The Beginning of the End

It was dark outside. Not overly so, not pitch black, but as dark as the city ever gets on a mid April night. This was none of my concern however, I was safe and comfortable in my best friend's bed thinking after our long drawn out conversation a few minutes prior.

  
It was her eighth birthday and not wanting to go home to my mother, her parents offered to let me sleep over. It’s not that I didn’t love my mother, I did, really, It was just that the house was always so cold. I wasn’t raised by my mother, see. She and father were always too preoccupied to lov-raise me, always busy with anything but their poor adopted daughter.

  
You see, they were unable to produce children. For the CEOs of a booming company, that meant no way to produce an heir. That was why they decided to adopt. Since I’ve been able to understand the workings of the world, I had asked Mother repeatedly why they picked me and not a male heir? He would have been more fit to face our world than me, a tender girl. She had the same answer every time. She would say that she saw great intellectual potential and power in my mesmerizing emerald orbs. I never understood why that was a deciding factor but I stopped asking after a while.

  
With mother and Father never making any time for me, I was raised by the maids. Don’t get me wrong, I do not loathe my parents for not giving me any attention, nor do I dislike the maids. They were amazing as stand-in mothers. The only problem was that they kept getting freaked out by me. When I was three, there were these things that kept happening around me. Whether it was because I didn’t like what there was to eat, or that I didn’t want to take my medication when I was sick, things tended to move mysteriously or blow up. After a few times, the maids would leave and a new one would replace them.

  
That was the only time Mother and Father would pay attention to me. I would become their responsibility till they found a replacement. It all got worse when Father died last September. Mother became even more cold and closed off, consumed by her grief. She put more time and effort into the company in lieu of Father. I often wondered if Mother secretly blamed me for father’s death. I wondered if perhaps she was better off without me, without the burden of my oddity…

  
A low thump woke me from my musings. It seemed to come from downstairs. I heard the sound of footsteps pass in front of the door heading in the direction of the stairs. I turned over and saw that Nikka was also aware and listening. Mutually deciding upon eye contact, we got up from the safety of the bed and slowly pushed the french doors open, enough to peek through. That’s when the first scream rang. Easily recognizing her dad’s voice, Nikka rushed down the stairs, tripped over her own feet, and fell down the stairs.

  
I quietly made my way down the hall and stairs when the second scream rang. I sped up and finished making my way to the living room where the then more often screams were emanating. Once I got the nerve to look around the corner, I saw something that would never leave me.

  
My best friend, on the floor, stark naked, mercilessly being raped by an unknown older man who was covered in blood. Surrounding them were the bloodied corpses of her parents. I squeaked in surprise, catching the attention of the intruder. He quickly turned his head and smiled at me bringing his finger to his lips, as if telling me to stay quiet. Shocked out of my reasonable mind, I curled up in a ball trying to block out the whines and screams of my childhood friend. Her last scream rang out and everything went silent. The last thing I heard were soft footsteps coming my way before everything went black.

* * *

The next while was a dark time in my life. I had been taken by my captor and shoved in a dark basement somewhere unknown to me.

  
At first, he didn’t come down for days. Neglecting my mere existence. My mind so terribly scared from that night kept me in a dazed sort of state. The thirst was what got to me first. It had certainly been days since I was thrown down there. At first my throat went dry, then I took to scratching my throat in hopes of drowning out the pain. Hunger was not my friend either. I was so hungry it felt as though I was hollow.

  
Then I saw the light of day for the first time in what seemed like forever. He, my captor, had decided to visit me. Naïve as I was, I assumed he was here to care for me and give me food and water.

  
That was when he took them out. The things that became the bane of my experience. Tools. Lots of them. All different sizes and shapes, different uses and functions.

  
Torture. /tôrCHər/ noun. The action of inflicting severe pain on someone… the one word that describes my life that year. At the beginning, I had hoped someone would hear my screams or come looking for me. Later I gave up and put my ever decreasing hope into my darkness as I dubbed it, the odd occurrences that would happen around me, hoping that some miracle would come to pass. It never did.  
  
I was always bound somehow or another, often blindfolded and gagged. Thus, I retreated into my mind. I tried remembering the happy memories, and closed myself off to the outside world. Sadly, there are only so many times you can view a happy memory before it becomes so sickly sweet and disgusting.

  
It was a cold winter evening that I made the decision that changed and saved my life. I was sick of all this pain. It was too much to bear. I couldn’t even remember my own name… least of all anyone else’s. The only thing that, funny enough, stayed clear in my mind was my mother’s disappointed face. Holding onto that hate and contempt, I locked away my emotions and threw away the key forevermore.

  
It was incredible how clear everything became. It all became so simple. No stupid crutch holding myself back. I started plotting his death those times I escaped into my mind and in my waking hours, all alone, I practiced using my darkness. Which became more often as I slowly lost my grip on the present reality.

\---

Then came the day I escaped. I could feel it in my bones when I woke up. He came down the stairs with the usual toolbox. I saw my chance and took it.

  
As he did every time he came to me, he took a hold of my forearm and, meeting no resistance, dragged my body to the room. Once inside, he closed the door and hung me up by my arms using chains. My feet barely touched the ground, the malnutrition having stunted my growth over the past year or so. I felt the usual throbbing from my arms and hands but ignored it as it had become a normal sensation.

  
The following hour was filled with my tortured screams as my captor practiced his hobby on me. I don't remember much about what he actually did, I had stopped paying attention a long time ago. I closed my eyes and retreated to the dark space in my mind. It greeted me warmly as it always did, soothing my aches and pains to the best of its abilities. I thanked it quietly for its assistance and prayed for it to give me strength so I could escape this hell.

  
Once he was done with me, he unlocked the chains and let me fall to the floor. Not one to waste an opportunity, I got up and struck with the speed and agility of a snake. Clearly shocked that I could move, my captor stumbled back. I took those seconds to call upon the darkness. As always, it answered my call and took the form I desired. That time, I thought about all the pain that man had inflicted on me and all the hatred I felt towards him and channeled it to my right hand. Red lightning cracked around my hand and when I placed it on the terrified face of my captor, his tortured screams resonated through the room.  
Oh the screams would bring a smile to my face for the next couple years. How sweet revenge tasted. I held him under the effects of my darkness until his body started to convulse and a mix of drool and blood dripped onto the floor. I removed my hand and he simply slumped to the ground. Quickly, I checked his vitals and confirmed that he was alive but he seemed to be unresponsive. It seemed as though I broke him… I, once more, called upon my darkness, this time with the intention to kill. Neon green lightning surrounded my hand and when it made contact with my ex-torturer, the light left his eyes.

  
Satisfied with a job well done, I gave myself a pat on the back and set to leave this god forsaken place. The first step was to get rid of my DNA. I silently thanked all the maids that enjoyed crime scene investigation shows and my teachers that encouraged me to read more advanced books. For the third time that day, I called upon my darkness and with a swish of my hand, I focused on removing all traces of myself from the basement floor. A tingling feeling left my body turning into a wavelike energy passing over the basement.

  
I took a minute to send my appreciation to my darkness, thanking it for being with me when no other was, for helping me free myself, and praying for it to help me in the future. A feeling akin to a warm hug engulfed me and I felt my special power seem to grow and rejuvenate.

  
Content in my knowledge that all evidence was gone, I made my way through the door and up the stairs i so often saw the now dead man use. The first thing that greeted me upstairs was the bright sunlight of a spring afternoon. I noticed that one of the many windows was open and a soft breeze filtered through. I had all but forgotten the sweet smell of the world outside.

  
I looked around the first floor for a while and finally found the staircase to the upper level. I made sure to will my darkness into a thin film over my fingertips to avoid any further traces of myself in the house. I swiftly found the master bedroom behind the last door on the first floor hallway and promptly walked towards the wardrobe. I opened it and picked out the smallest shirt and skirt I could find. ‘ _Seems as though the man has a wife, or at least a female partner. I wonder if she knows about his pastime…_ ’ I quickly took off my ratty clothes and willed them to go away. They did. After putting on the new clothes I left the house after making sure to grab a decent amount of money. ‘ _I wonder when his wife will find him. She sure is in for the surprise of a lifetime_ ’ I thought as I giggled softly. It was time for me to go home.

* * *

It took me a total of three hours to get home to my mother. It was a miracle I remembered where I once lived. After an hour of wandering around the neighborhood where I found myself after my escape, I found out I was in Coventry. Cursing my luck, I managed to hail a taxi and hoped that the money I had would cover a ride to London.

  
My luck seemed to not have run out quite yet as my fare was almost the exact amount I had. However, I felt like cursing once I was out of the cab. I could have just used my darkness to make the taxi driver do what I wanted. ‘ _I really need to start thinking with my darkness. It is a tool I must utilize._ ’

  
I walked up the front steps of the house that never truly was a home to me. Making true to my earlier promise, I called upon my darkness and effectively unlocked the front door. Presumably hearing the door open and close without being warned previously, I heard my mother make her way down the stairs to the front hall.

  
“Noah?” she calls out. ‘ _She must be delusional to be calling out the name of her dead husband._ ’

  
“No, it’s me…” ‘ _Damn it, what’s my name again?_ ’

  
“Casseopia?” ‘ _Right, that’s it. Cass for short. I’m surprised she’s using my full name…_ ’

  
My mother, Dorethy, having just turned the corner stopped dead in her tracks. Whatever she was expecting when she thought of me clearly wasn’t what I was. She looked me up and down a couple times before putting both her hands on her hips and looking at me with that disapproving look I so loathed.

  
“Where HAVE you been? It’s been a year since you so bothered to call me! Your own mother! After the incident at - oh what was her name - Nikka’s, I thought you ran away!” ‘ _Yeah right, I think you were happy I was gone_ ’ “Another week and I would have told the police!” ‘ _Lie_ ’ “I’m very disappointed in you young lady!” And so on so forth. I think she screamed at me for another twenty or so minutes before I lost it.

  
“Listen here woman, I didn’t run away, I was kidnapped-” I started calmly.

  
“You filthy liar! Why would anyone kidnap you? You’re-”

  
“Yes, I get it! I’m a failure, I’m a waste of space, a freak-”

  
“You ungrateful child! You killed your father!” She said getting close and closer.

  
“I didn’t! Stop blaming me! All I want-”

  
“Let me guess affection? Love? Don’t give me that tripe! It’s all your fault! He wouldn’t be gone if you were never a part of our lives!” She lifted her hand to slap me but I was faster. I caught her arm and it shattered due to my rage. ‘ _How could she? She doesn’t care about me. She’s just a powerless human. The world would be better off without this waste of space. Just like that man. I should get rid of her._ ’ As soon as the thought crossed my mind, green lightning surrounded my hand and her pained screams ended.

  
I felt as though a large burden had been lifted, giddy almost. I fell on my knees and knelt by her corpse, that’s all she was now, and laughed. By the time I got back up, my too-long skirt was soaked in her blood. Back in my right mind, I realized I had to either hide the body or find a way to alert the authorities. I figured the latter was the safer option seeing as I would be placed in an orphanage and cared for, at least a bit. That, and who would suspect that a nine-year-old would kill their only living relative and want to end up in an orphanage. Anyways, Anything would be better compared to living here or in the room.

  
So, decision made, I set to make it look like a plausible murder. I took a knife (making sure to use gloves) and stabbed the corpse in the heart. Satisfied, I went up to my room, vanished the stolen clothes and put on some of my old pieces. Much to my dismay, they still fit me properly. I stepped in front of my floor length mirror and looked at myself. Some scars were visible even with the clothing so I closed my eyes and asked my darkness to cover them up. I opened my emerald eyes, and to my immense satisfaction, all the scars were gone. I moved my fringe to see if that scar was still there. It was. You see, ever since I can remember, I’ve had a lightning bolt scar on my forehead, right above my right eye. I used to cover it up with my bangs but they’ve been long outgrown. My black locks now reached my thighs. I have to admit I did quite like the length. Thus, I decided to simply use a pair of scissors to cut my bangs to hide the scar once more. Happy with my new appearance, I headed to the nearest police station.

* * *

The car ride to the nearest orphanage was boring at best. My plan to tell the police that I happened upon the dead form of my adoptive mother after coming back home from school worked just as I expected it to. I played the role of a traumatized child perfectly. Because of my lack of family, adoptive and biological, I found myself in the back seat of a police car finally driving up to a dark building with some boarded and broken windows and multiple children running about the grounds. This was the place where I was to stay for the next foreseeable future. Walking up the front steps with the officer, I vowed to myself that I would try to blend into the background for as long as possible. It seems, however, that my luck had run out after that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of Dusk Falls!! This is my first ever fan fiction and I'm so happy to actually post it (though updates will be slow and irregular... what can I say? Inspiration is a bitch to me sometimes!).  
> \- The Dark Lady Evanna Potter


	2. The Appearance of One Severus Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Casseopia gets her letter and a breif intro to the Wizarding World.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh I know I didn't say this in the first chapter but, as I'm sure you all know, I don't own any of the canon characters and plot and world and any of that stuff... If I did, I would be waaaaaay richer than I am, waaaaay famous and Harry wouldn't be a whiny bitch (no offence to all who enjoyed canon Harry, but I really can't stand the original)...  
> Also also, as some have pointed out I did use some of the sentences from The Rise of a Dark Lord so yeah I don’t own those but you should go check out that fic it’s soooo good!! And I mean it’s my fave fic everrrr.

Severus Snape, the Half-Blood Prince, youngest Potions Master in centuries, Head of Slytherin house and Potions professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood on the sidewalk in front of St Mary Margaret’s Orphanage.

The building proper, he was sure, had seen better days. It was well worn by its inhabitants through the years. Merlin knew how children were. But the building also radiated a cold and desolate air. He pitied whoever had the misfortune of only knowing such a place.

The professor double checked the address on the slip of paper Albus had given him minutes prior. Apparently this was no ordinary orphanage. No, this one contained Miss Casseopia Potter, the Girl Who Lived.

Apparently, two days prior, Albus had gone to Petunia (the girl’s only living blood relative)’s house to introduce the young lady to the wizarding world. Severus really wasn’t surprised when the headmaster informed him that Petunia told him that when she had found the infant Potter on her doorstep, she wasted no time in bringing her to the station. Really, Albus should have known this would happen. The horse of a woman had always been jealous of sweet Lily’s magical aptitude. Getting back on track, Dumbledore continued by saying that he followed the Savior’s history across muggle London. It seems as though the child had been adopted at a young age by rich CEOs and continued to live with them until his adoptive mother died two years ago. And now, she resided in this… dump. He almost felt bad for the child.

Why Albus thought him best to introduce her to the Wizarding world, he might never know. But, his job was keeping him out of Azkaban so he bit his tongue and focused his attention on the matron sitting in front of him in a small stuffy office.

“You’re here to offer Casseopia a place at this school for the gifted, Hogwarts, right?” Asked the matron, Mrs Jones.

“Hogwarts, and yes you are correct. She has been on the list of students since her birth. You see, her parents went there as well.”

“I see.”

“She’s been at this orphanage for two years if I’m not mistaken?”

  
  


“Yes, after that horrible ordeal with her adoptive mother. She was such a meek nine-year-old. Hardly looked a day over seven. Quiet too. We didn’t understand why no-one adopted her over the past years, she was a very well behaved girl, polite to everyone... but then…”

“Is there something wrong with her?” Severus asked slightly on edge.

“Well you see, those eyes, they seem to see into your very soul. And the jaded darkness they possess… I mean she saw the mutilated body of her mother, but there’s just something more…” The matron seemed to drift on in her thoughts.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about Casseopia?” Snape asked slightly annoyed at the dazed state of the woman in front of him.

“Yes well, she is an excellent student, top grades and everything… She even skipped a grade last year. All her teachers love her and she doesn’t cause much trouble for them.”

“And friends?”

Mrs Jones became visibly uncomfortable at that question. Snape stiffened. Would she take after her bully of a father? An uneasy feeling started to build as the seconds of silence passed.

“Ah… Casseopia was never really social since she arrived at this establishment. At the beginning, she almost sunk into the background… But you know how children can be… They don’t always know when they push too far… They can be so cruel sometimes.”

Severus’s stomach dropped and could barely contain his snarl. He couldn’t stand bullies, and the young girl seemed to be following in her father’s footsteps. “She’s a bully, isn’t she? Is that it?” He ended up asking.

“No, you misunderstand me, she was the one the children were cruel to. She arrived after leaving a rich family, she is beautiful, intelligent and respectful. You see this establishment is understaffed and poorly funded, it’s no surprise the other children didn’t take kindly to her. They would do anything to get adopted, and then she shows up, the perfect angel that was adopted once already. They would trip her, cut her clothes, steal food, and other minor things…”

“And no one tried to help her?” The Potions Master asked incredulously.

“What could we do? We had no evidence and we could only suspect a group of three that seemed to take a certain interest with her. She was alone with no one else to stand up for her.” The matron defended herself. Her eyes then darkened and the professor caught a glimpse of fear in her grey orbs. “But a couple months ago, things changed…” she whispered, her expression a mix of fear and a slight bit of awe. Severus shivered, he had often seen that same look on certain Death Eaters, “oh how things changed…”

“What changed Mrs Jones?” the professor asked, slightly fearful of the answer.

“You are going to take her right? There’s nothing I can say to deter you?”

“Yes, that is correct, she has been on the list for Hogwarts since birth and nothing will change that.” replied Snape wanting desperately to know what happened.

Mrs Jones told him some of her suspicions, none of them bad and none very incriminating. Until “A couple months ago, those three I had mentioned earlier, Joseph, Alysson, and Victor, well I suspect they attempted to push Casseopia off the lower roof while the four of them were cleaning up there. Of course we have no evidence that they are to blame but Casseopia got injured, just a twisted ankle, but nevertheless injured.

Later that day, Joseph threw himself off of the main staircase, two days later Victor never woke up and is still in a coma in the hospital, and Alysson cut herself a few months ago but wouldn’t stop bleeding. Of course, Casseopia was far away from them on all occasions but the circumstantial evidence is indisputable.”

Over Mrs Jones’ speech, that expression of fear/awe/respect intensified and Severus could only barely hold in the shiver that wanted to rack his body at the thought of his former master. The child certainly didn’t take after James or Lily. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about her. He decided to simply observe her and pass judgement later. He made an effort to smile and asked the matron if he could speak to Casseopia.

The professor followed Mrs Jones up the main staircase and down the hall to the right. Half way down, the matron pointed to the last door and told him that was where Girl Savior was as if being in that very hallway caused her immense pain.

As soon as Severus opened the door to the girl’s room he had to hide his shock. Normally what everyone thought when thinking of Casseopia Potter, one would imagine a long haired clone of James Potter with the eyes of one Lily Potter with some small changes but none of this magnitude. The child in front of him truly resembled an angel.

Sitting on her bed, legs crossed, Casseopia was reading a book on psychology and criminal behavioral patterns, her head slightly tilted, sharp, aristocratic face framed by long pitch black hair. Her attributes were clearly inherited from her grandmother Dorea Potter née Black, but one could clearly see that she is a Potter. She also had traces of Malfoy and Rosier traits, both families having married into the Potter line. Apparently she took after a lot of Pureblood families, giving birth to the beauty sitting in front of him.

But what surprised him the most were her eyes, the right bearing above it the signature scar left by the Dark Lord himself. Her eyes may have been the same shape as her mother’s but the color was nothing like it. He couldn’t stop the shiver that went down his spine when he looked at the eyes the color of death, eyes the exact same shade as the ‘Avada Kedavra’ curse.

“Casseopia, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Professor Severus Sanpe and I am here to deliver your Hogwarts letter.”

“Good afternoon, pleasure to meet you, Professor Snape.” Casseopia replied, a lovely smile adorning her face. If not for the matron’s warnings, Severus would have believed it was the most genuine thing in the world.

“I am sure you are curious as to what Hogwarts is.” A nod was his only reply. “It is a school for magic.”

Severus was preparing himself to give the traditional welcoming to the Wizarding World but then he heard a low musical chuckle coming from the child. Believing that young Casseopia thought she was being lied to, he was going to explain that it was, in fact, the truth when he saw something in her eyes; recognition and relief? But before he could better analyse the expression it was gone and Casseopia uttered.

“So what I can do is magic… I knew, I knew I was different, better than  _ them _ .”

The word ‘them’ was spoken with so much disdain and disgust that the professor almost gaped. He saw so much of himself in the child right in front of him yet so much of another, a certain Dark Lord. it seemed as though he might have to reevaluate yet again his beliefs about the young girl.

“Is that so, and what can you do?” asked Severus in a calm tone genuinely interested in her answer.

“Nothing very special, professor” ‘ _ bullshit _ ’ “some strange things happen when I’m sad or angry… things float, hair changes color, my fingers caught fire once, nothing much really.” finished Casseopia with a smile. “Professor, how can I go to that school? Do I have to complete some sort of test so that I can gain a scholarship? Or something of the like?”

Casseopia’s question reminded the professor that she knew nothing of her own history. For a fraction of a second Severus pondered not telling her, but as quickly as the impulse appeared it disappeared. The girl had the right to know, and the fact that she was The-Girl-Who-Lived, was impossible to hide. Sighing, the professor answered.

“You don’t need a scholarship; your parents left you everything they had.”

“My parents?” Casseopia inquired lightly. “You knew my birth parents?”

Snape breathed in deeply then started.

“Some years ago, before you were born, our world was at war. A wizard, the Dark Lord, rose to power and in order to change the way our world works, went to war. Your parents participated and became targets rather quickly because of a prophecy naming you the defeater of the Dark Lord and your parents decided to go into hiding so that you could be safe. But, unfortunately, he ended up finding you. Voldemort, the name of the Dark Lord, killed your parents and tried to kill you, but the curse he had used turned against him, and he lost his body and disappeared. Lilly, James, and yourself are known as the heroes of the war that brought peace to the Wizarding World.”

Casseopia didn’t say anything for a few moments; she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Severus didn’t know for sure how to proceed, he was expecting a more emotional response, and it wasn’t every day that you learnt that your parents were killed.

"That war ended? And what were the objectives from both sides? What side were you on Professor?" Casseopia ended up asking.

The professor took a little time to answer, he was not expecting those questions. He had been expecting questions about her family, not about the war.

"The war ended, yes," answered Snape, "about the objectives, it is a complex subject, you are better off finding some books about it but essentially, the Light was fighting to keep things as they were and the Dark were fighting for the complete separation from Muggles, non magical people, and the legal practice of the Dark Arts, an entire side of magic with many branches, some useful, some harmful, and some very obscure."

"I see," whispered Casseopia in a cold tone that caused Severus to shiver, that tone of voice was remarkably similar to the one the Dark Lord used when one of his followers had displeased him, and it was normally followed by a Crucio, "could you then inform me how I can access what my parents left me? What I need for school, where I can buy it and all that information? And you never answered my last question, what side were you on Professor?"

"Of course, of course," Severus replied, "here is the letter with all the needed information. The list with everything you need to buy, the train ticket, where and how to catch the train and the day and hour it leaves. I can accompany you to Diagon Alley where you can buy all your things for school. As for your last question, I was a part of the Dark Lord’s army but I have realized my mistakes, hence why I am a teacher at Hogwarts.”

Casseopia lifted a skeptical eyebrow at his answer, took her letter, opened it and inspected the contents.

"I see… It won't be necessary for you to accompany me. You certainly have better things to do, I don't want to impose. Besides, I'm used to doing things by myself.”

Containing a sigh, Sanpe gave her her Gringotts key, explained to her how to get to Diagon Alley and how to find the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

Casseopia thanked them and with a short goodbye, the professor left young Casseopia's room. He said a quick goodbye to Mrs. Jones and lost no time in leaving that place. He didn’t notice the eyes, the color of death that followed him from the window on the second floor, focused on his thoughts about Casseopia Lily Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, the Saviors of the Wizarding World. Oh how the Light was about to suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeet Chapter two!!! I'm surprised I posted another chapter so soon! The next one is really and I mean reallllly long (though that might just be because I'm writing it lol) so don't expect anything too soon! Your feedback is much appreciated! If there are any mistakes don't be too shy to point them out as long as you're not a bitch about it!  
> Haha I just realized I've been using a lot of exclamation marks 
> 
> Also, I know that in canon Fleamont Potter and Euphemia Potter were James' parents but for the sake of my plot, lets just pretend that James is the son of Charlus and Dorea...
> 
> Anywho, laterz,  
> Evanna


	3. Diagon Alley (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! But anyways, here's the highly anticipated (maybe) chapter 3!!!   
> Anywho, I don't own canon characters, quotes, plot, yada yada yada, and yes, my fanfiction will be heavily inspired, at lest most of it, by the multitude of other fanfictions i have read, so if you read something familiar we've probably read the same fanfic! Isn't that cool!?

The Day after Professor Sanpe visited Casseopia and gave her the letter, she decided to go to Diagon Alley. She didn’t plan on shopping that day but if there was a library or a bookstore, she definitely wanted to read some books about the culture, etiquette, and history. All three were very important in order not to make a complete fool out of herself. After all, first impressions were everything.

She smiled, a large genuine grin that would scare anyone unlucky enough to see it, remembering what her darkness truly was… Magic! It all made a lot of sense really. The young heiress quickly sent a thank you to her magic for being there as she had been doing since that fateful day. And every time Casseopia did it, her darkness would respond in some way, often becoming easier to control or gaining power.  _ ‘I wonder if this is common practice for witches and wizards…’ _

Her thoughts continued on as she was getting ready for a day of reading and exploring. Using what money she could find/steal, she took the tube and had no problem finding the pub Professor Snape mentioned. Casseopia quickly made her way to the bar.

“Excuse me, Mr. Tom? Could you help me enter Diagon Alley, Professor Snape said I was to ask you for help entering the Alley?” She asked with a sweet smile, hoping to seem like any normal eleven-year-old.

“Of course, come along, just out back here,” they made their way into the back courtyard, “all you have to do is tap the bicks like so, and the doorway will open right up!” And he was quite right. The bricks shifted and formed an arched doorway. On the other side, the Potter heiress could see a long winding street filled with witches and wizards, lined with very colorful vendors and stores. She made an effort to make her eyes go wide in wonder, though it wasn’t all that faked, and the small chuckle from beside her told her she had succeeded. 

“Welcome to Diagon Alley” was all that was said before Tom went back inside his pub.

* * *

After going up and down the Alley a couple times in order to familiarize herself with the space (of course not going into Knockturn… yet), Casseopia easily made her way back to Flourish and Blotts, the largest bookstore she had seen in the Alley. As it was still quite early in the day, the store was practically empty. She easily made her way through rows of shelves towards the section marked ‘ _ Introduction to the Wizarding World’ _ . It only consisted of three smallish shelves but it was filled with thin books on topics ranging from the so-called  _ Sacred Twenty Eight  _ to  _ Goblin Customs and Traditions _ . 

After looking over the titles of the many booklets, she decided to start off by reading up on Goblin traditions and customs  _ ‘well they ARE the creatures handling my money, or so says Professor Snape…’ _ , Pureblood etiquette, and and introduction of the Wizarding World geared to help guide Muggleborns. 

Casseopia was completely taken aback by the sheer amount of information in the books. If she were anyone else, all that information would have quite overwhelmed her brain. It took her a solid four hours to read though only those three booklets and assimilate a decent idea of how to act in this whole new world. 

Putting the books back, she once again looked over the other titles. Judging by the amount of time it took her to read just three, she figured she was better off buying some and bringing them to the orphanage. But then she would have to access her vault to get the required money… It seemed as though a trip to the Goblins was in order. 

* * *

Casseopia Potter looked up at the imposing white marble structure in front of her. Silently gulping and focusing on her mission and what she just learnt about goblins, she made her way up the stairs and past the warning. It was high time she found out just  _ what  _ her parents left her after dying so irresponsibly. 

Really, it was a miracle she was able to keep a straight face when her professor explained to her who she was and what her parents did. They were  _ parents _ , they had a  _ child  _ to care for and yet they kept fighting the big bad Dark Lord. Prophecy or not, they were bound to die at some point! Such foolish people. 

On top of all that, because of the whole fiasco, she was stuck as the beacon of the Light, the girl savior of the Wizarding World. It was utterly ridiculous how an entire community hailed her, a  _ child _ , as the miracle that saved them from a terrorist.  _ ‘As if I was powerful enough to destroy an “evil” Dark Lord with years of experience when I was literally fifteen months old!’  _ If all Wizards and Witches were dense enough to believe that tripe, she may just resort to mass extermination!

Shaking her head at her ridiculous thoughts, she casually moved her fringe to better hide the damned  _ scar _ . Walking past the two goblin guards on either side of the entrance to the bank, she quickly paused, remembering the booklet, and gave both a shot bow. With raised eyebrows and wide eyes, both goblins bowed back in a show of respect and opened the doors for her. 

The inside of the wizarding bank was as imposing as the exterior was. Marble floors, walls, ceiling, and pillars contrasted the brass teller gates. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling and lines of Wizards and Witches were formed in front of the different tellers. Casseopia placed herself in the shortest line she could see and waited her turn.

Five minutes later, she walked up to a goblin teller, bowed her head and gave the customary greeting. The goblin must have been pleasantly surprised because he returned the greeting with a viciously toothy smile.

“How may I be of assistance, young witch?”

“I would like to talk to the goblin responsible for my account as well as have a blood test done,” she said, getting straight to the point. It was a good thing there was a section of the goblin book that mentioned the unique rituals and magics Goblins offered at Gringotts.

“Name?”

“I rather not say in such a, ah, public place. Would my vault key be enough?” Casseopia asked, hoping not to have her identity revealed so soon. She wanted to stay faceless to the Wizarding masses for as long as she could.

“Of course young witch,” the Potter heiress passed over her key. “Yes I see why you would rather not say. The test will be done when you meet with your manager. Griphook will lead you to your manager’s office.”

With a nod, Casseopia followed the Goblin, Griphook, that appeared beside the teller. After walking down long marble hallways and past many metal doors, they finally made it to the Potter family vault manager. Griphook knocked on the door and an affirmative sounded behind the doors. Slowly, Griphook opened the doors and motioned for Casseopia to enter. With a small bow, the Goblin left her to her business.

“Good afternoon Miss Potter, I am Ironclaw and I oversee and manage the Potter vaults and investments.”

“Good afternoon Ironclaw.”

“I’ve been informed that you wish to take a blood test?” the goblin asked, raising a brow in questioning.

“That is correct.”

“Very well,” he said, seeing as Casseopia didn’t give any further reasoning for her request. What could she say? She was interested in seeing the magic and, well, it couldn’t hurt to find out more about her inheritance. Ironclaw reached into one of his drawers and pulled out a small ornate dagger and a piece of parchment. “Please let seven drops of your blood fall onto this parchment. It will detail your family, possible other heirships and ladyships, as well as your assets. 

Not wasting another second, Casseopia slashed her palm without so much as a wince and let the required amount of blood drop onto the parchment. Quickly, she asked her darkness,  _ no _ , she corrected herself,  _ magic _ to heal the cut. The goblin seemed quite shocked at her actions, whether it was her lack of reaction at cutting herself or the display of wandless healing, the young heiress didn’t know.

Casseopia placed the dagger back onto the desk and handed over the parchment to Ironclaw. He placed his hand over the parchment and started to chant in another language, probably Gobbledygook. A red light flashed around the piece of parchment once the chanting stopped. Ironclaw read the parchment over before nodding to himself and passing it over. 

The parchment read:

Name: Casseopia Lily Potter

Father: James C. Potter (Deceased)

Mother: Lily J. Potter (Deceased)

Godmother(s): Alice Longbottom (Insane)

Godfather(s): Sirius Orion Black (Incarcerated)

Magical Guardian: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Heiress status: Noble House of Potter

Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

Noble and Most Ancient House of Prevell

Vault(s): Trust Vault: Casseopia L. Potter

Potter Family Vault

Black Main Vault

Black Artifact Vault

Prevell Vault

Propertie(s): Potter cottage (Godric’s Hollow)

Potter Manor (Unplottable)

12 Grimmauld Place (London townhouse)

Black cottage (Lugano, Switzerland)

Prevell manor (Unplottable)

Casseopia sat looking at the paper quite frankly shocked. The Potters she could understand, but why was she also the heiress to the Black and Prevell families? Quickly snapping out of it she asked: “Ironclaw, why am I the heiress to the Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Black and Prevell?... Could you explain them to me?”

Ironclaw opened a folder and dropped the blood test in. “All if not most Pureblood families are related to one another. The Prevell line is very old and has from them, only two families have direct lines; the Potters and the Gaunts. Potter had the firstborn, thus the heir status is passed down that line. As for the Blacks, your godfather, Sirius Black, named you as sole inheritor of the family vaults prior to his incarceration and this is made possible because Black blood flows through your veins thanks to your Grandmother. Understand?”

Casseopia nodded, a little overwhelmed by all the new information.

“Good.” He took out three ring boxes and opened them. The one on the left was a beautiful black zirconium band with delicate constellation designs in silver with a black diamond inlaid in the center with a crest carved on it. The middle one had a crimson ruby with another crest on a solid gold band. Finally, the one on the right was another gold ring but that one was inset with a back stone engraved with a circle divided by a line, surrounded by a triangle. 

After a brief explanation, Casseopia learnt that the silver one was the Black heir ring, the one with the ruby was the Potter heir ring and the last one was the Prevell heir ring. After putting them on her fingers (left middle finger: Prevell ring, left middle finger: Black ring, and right index: Potter ring), Ironclaw told her how to make them invisible to all but herself and whoever she wished to be able to see them as well as explaining that only she can take them off.

“Now, do you want a complete list of all activity and inventory of your vaults?” Ironclaw asked as he was shuffling through a new folder.

“For today I would only like to see the activity and inventory for my trust vault. Also, where would I be able to learn more about the families?”

Ironclaw nodded and retrieved the specific papers from the folder. “Your trust vault has 260 000 Galleons, 65 000 Sickes and 55 000 Knuts for school supplies and personal shopping. Every year, Albus Dumbledore transferred and converted 5 000 Gallons to British Pounds, which is approximately 25 000 pounds, to your aunt and uncle for your welfare.”

_ ‘Aunt and Uncle? This is the first time I heard about them… Guess they’re the reason I was in an orphanage in the first place. This also means they apparently gave me away without Dumbledore noticing and they’re probably living off of  _ my _ money!’ _ Annoyed, Casseopia asked if there was any way to get back the money.  _ ‘Emancipation from Dumbledore would be nice too, he seems like he can’t be trusted if my situation and the hero worship in all the history books was anything to go by. But, I’ll see to that later’ _

“Yes, that would be possible. I’ll stop the yearly transactions and I’ll see what I can do to get your money back.”

“Thank you Ironclaw. If it helps you can take a percentage of the money recovered for your services.” To which the goblin smiled viciously.

“As for your question, each vault has a book about the family history. Since you cannot access those vaults unless you are of age legally or magically, we can go retrieve them for a small fee.”

“Yes, that would be perfect. I will be coming back to Diagon Alley, probably in a week’s time, as such I’ll come by to pick up the books. As for today, would I be able to visit my trust vault to make a withdrawal? Or is there another way to access my money?”

“Gringotts offers an extendable money pouch for coins connected to your vaults, and if you want, most stores in Diagon Alley will send the expense for your items directly to us. It is a service for our wealthier clients, including you Miss Potter.”

  
“Brilliant! How does it work? Do I need any type of identification?”

“Your magic will suffice. All one must do is give the receipt a bit of their magic and it will automatically connect to your vault. Before you ask, your vault is already connected to your magic through the blood test.”

“Ah, thank you Ironclaw. I will take one of those money pouches.” The Goblin hands over a green velvet drawstring pouch and Casseopia places it in her pocket. “I shall return for those books in a week’s time.” Bowing she adds: “May your enemies cower at your feet.”

“And may your vaults overflow heiress Potter, it has been a pleasure to do business with you.”

Having taken care of everything she wanted to and more, Casseopia left the wizarding bank with new knowledge, things to buy, and someone to look out for.

* * *

The first thing Casseopia did once she was back on the streets of Diagon Alley was to go buy a wand. She definitely didn’t want to rely on the bar keeper to open the doorway to Diagon Alley every time she visited. She could already tell she might come more often than she originally planned. There was just so much she had to catch up on. 

She made her way to the wandmaker she had seen in the Alley, the  _ only _ one it seemed. ‘ _ You’d think that since wizards seem to rely solely on their wands to use magic, that there would be more than one wandmaker to choose from. Yet, they DO claim that a simple infant vanquished the most feared Dark Lord of the century. Maybe they aren’t any brighter than the  _ muggles _.’ _

The shop was narrow and shabby with peeling gold letters that read:  _ Ollivanders: Makers of fine Wands since 382 B.C. _ There was a solitary wand set on a faded purple cushion in the display window. When she opened the door, a small bell rang but when she looked up to observe it, it was nowhere to be seen. Looking around the small space, she found it completely empty except for a chair in the back and shelves upon shelves of narrow boxes, which she assumed held the different wands. 

Suddenly, a voice behind her said: “Miss Potter, I was wondering when you would be stopping by this summer.”

Startled, Casseopia whirled around and came face to face with an old, ancient even, man with silvery eyes, crazy white hair and pale skin. He didn’t look intimidating physically but neither did she, yet both were powerful in that area. The thing that made her most uncomfortable however, was the all knowing glint apparent in the man’s eyes. It seemed as though all the secrets of the universe were open to him at his discretion. 

“Tell me Miss Potter, which would be your wand arm?” Ollivander, she assumed, asked while moving to get a measuring tape.

“I’m ambidextrous…” she replied to which he exclaimed “Wonderful!”

Slightly confused Casseopia just then realized her arms were being measured by a floating tape measure. It then proceeded to go and make it its mission to measure every other inch of her body until Ollivander shooed it away muttering to himself.

“Go ahead and give this one a try dear,” he said as he passed the young heiress a greenish stick. “10 3/4 inches, vine wood, dragon heartstring. Suited for spellcraft and finesse.”

She took the wand and looked slightly confused as to what she was supposed to do with it. Luckily Ollivander picked up on this and said: “Go ahead, just give it a wave. We’ll know right away if it is best suited for you.”

Following his instructions, Casseopia waved the stick and one of the many windows in the shop exploded. The way it had interacted with her magic felt completely wrong. It felt nothing like the warm hug she was used to. 

Muttering, Ollivander snatched the wand from her hand and proceeded to give her the next one. With every new wand, Ollivander would give a little explanation or fun fact about either the wand itself, the type of wood, the length or the core. 

Twenty-five wands later and they seemed no closer to finding a good match. The longer she was stuck in the store the more restless Casseopia became, but Ollivander continued to be unfazed. He was even happy to have a “rather tricky customer!”

Finally, after nearly an hour of testing wands and disastrous results, Ollivander gained an unholy glint in his eyes and went to the back of his store to fetch an unassuming black box. Casseopia looked at him questioningly and as an explanation he simply said: “11 inches, holly, and phoenix feather, nice and supple. Go ahead dear, try this one.”

Gripping the piece of wood silently hoping that all of this nonsense would end soon, she gave it a wave. Instantly, she knew that it was a match. She felt the warm hug of her magic respond nicely with the wand. However, a millisecond later, the warm feeling grew to be too much and nearly suffocated her. Panicking, she called upon her magic and tried to stop the sensation. 

A loud crack resonated through the store and the feeling was no longer there. From her right, she heard a loud gasp and looked down at the wand. It was split perfectly through the middle exposing a beautiful red and orange feather.

“Well I never…” Ollivander started. “It seems as though you bonded to the phoenix feather core but your magic flat out rejected the Holy wood. Tell me Miss Potter, what did the wand feel like when you tried it.”

Casseopia revealed as much as she remembered to the old man concerned that she did something terribly awful and wouldn’t be able to have a wand.

“No need to worry yourself. As much as this is a unique situation, I will be able to make you a custom wand with a wood to your choosing. As for the feeling of suffocation, it seems as though your magic wasn’t quite compatible with the protective nature of Holy wood. It was simply too ill suited to the nature of your magic to be able to draw on it correctly. Now, if you’ll follow me to the back, I’ll see what I can do about your situation.”

Casseopia followed him to a back section to the shop, which she discovered was more of a workshop. There were jars of different substances she assumed were the wand cores as well as many tools and pieces of wood on a desk. Stopping next to Ollivander, he instructed her to pick up the different pieces of wood and do with it as she would an actual wand. Once she finds the right one, she would feel the same sensation she felt with the phoenix feather. 

One by one, she held the different wand woods until he hand hit a beautiful piece of dark wood. It felt once again like the warm hug of her magic. Handing it over to Ollivander, she asked him what type of wood it was.

“This, Miss Potter, is a piece of Blackthorn, a very unusual wand wood and has a reputation as being best suited for a warrior. It is a curious feature of the blackthorn bush, which sports wicked thorns, that it produces its sweetest berries after the hardest frosts, and the wands made from this wood appear to need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. Come back in a half-hour to pick up your wand.”

Clearly dismissed, Casseopia made her way back through the shop and out the door.

* * *

After wandering the alley for a couple minutes trying to decide how to kill the time it would take for Ollivander to make her wand, she realized that she would be in need of a bag to store all of the books she intended on buying today.

She quickly made her way to the luggage store she had spotted during her first walk-about. The building was quite unassuming. The sign hanging in front read: Fawley’s Everything Luggage and multiple different bags and trunks were piled in the shop’s windows.

As in Ollivanders, when Casseopia opened the door, she heard a small bell chime her arrival. Not seeing any clerk she decided to look around the bag section. She dearly hoped she would be able to find a nice book bag that’ll last her at least her Hogwarts years. 

After a few minutes of rummaging through the school bag section, she finally found it. It was a marvelous black leather messenger bag with silver snake patterns and matching silver clasps. She heard a throat being cleared somewhere behind her and turned to face the clerk.

“Good afternoon miss and welcome to Fawley’s Everything Luggage! Is there anything I can do for you today?” the woman asked. It all sounded very rehearsed to Cass’ ears but she respected the woman’s politeness. 

“Yes, thank you. I would like to buy this messenger bag but I was wondering if it had any special features and if you offered charms or wards for it.”

“Judging by your age I assume you wish to use this as a book bag for your school years?” She received a nod as a reply. “Well, this bag already has an undetectable extension charm so you can fit many many books in it. It is also featherlight. In terms of wards there is a list from which you can choose. Here let me get it out.”

The woman handed Cass a piece of parchment. It detailed the uses of the different wards and which one could be used with others. After looking over the list and thinking of different combinations, she finally decided on a password ward to access the bag, anti flame and waterproofing charms, anti theft, and finally a notice me not and muggle repellent ward. 

“All right, pass me the bag and I’ll have it all charmed for you in five minutes.” 

The woman disappeared through the backdoor and Casseopeia decided to go look at the trunks. She would have to purchase one sooner rather than later so there was no point in not looking at them while she was already in the shop. None seemed to catch her eye at the moment so she decided to come back next time and look at them more thoroughly. 

Just as she said she would, the clerk came back 5 minutes later with her messenger bag. 

“That’ll be 50 galleons and 12 sickles. To input the password, you just have to tap your wand to the clasp speak the current password and then input the new one. Of course once you change the store issued password which is Fawley by the way, the password war will be keyed to your magic, so don’t let anyone else do it for you!”

Casseopia paid the amount and left the quaint shop promising to come back in a week for a trunk. Looking at her watch, she noticed it was just about time to head back to Ollivanders to get her new wand!

* * *

Opening the door to the old shop, Casseopia notices Ollivander sitting in the previously abandoned chair reading a book. 

“Ah, Miss Potter, right on time! I just finished crafting your wand. I must say it is one of my more powerful creations,” he twirled the wand. “Yes, powerful indeed,” he muttered and handed her the wand. The handle of the wans was a dark brown color but it faded into a paler shade at the tip. The handle had an x design and the tip seemed almost razor sharp, as though it could be used as a physical weapon on its own. Giving it a swish, it produced poisonous green sparks reminiscent of Casseopia’s eyes and the deadly magic she once wielded.

He extended his hand out to regain possession of the wand, and packed it up in its box still muttering.

“Curious… Curious…”

“Sorry,” said Casseopia, “but  _ what’s _ curious?”

“Well you see Miss Potter, I remember every wand I’ve ever sold,” Ollivander started fixing the young heiress with his pale stare. “ E very single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother - why, its brother gave you that scar. Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew.”

Casseopia was internally conflicted. The wand that chose her was the brother to the most infamous and powerful Dark Lord, yes, but also the wand that attempted to kill her. 

“Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter... After all,  He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great.”

Cass shivered in anticipation at  w hat her future could look like. However, she wasn’t sure if she much liked Ollivander. Sometimes he seemed to know of her deepest darkest secrets… like what happened back  _ then _ . She quickly paid the 7 galleons for the wand as well as purchasing a dragonhide wand holster and Ollivander bowed her from his shop.

The sun was starting to hang low in the sky so Casseopia made her way back down Diagon Alley towards Flourish and Blotts. It was finally time for her to get the books she had singled out earlier that morning. 

Walking into the store with a small chime, she headed back to the section dedicated to an ‘ _ Introduction to the Wizarding World’  _ and picked out the five or so books and pamphlets that she hadn’t yet read. Then, she headed to the different sections to browse the beginner books. 

In the end she picked up ‘ _ An Introduction to Potions and its Ingredients’, ‘A Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)’, ‘Magical Theory’, ‘Hogwarts a History’  _ and finally ‘ _ Curses and Counter Curses’ _ .  __ She would have liked to purchase a book about the war that Professor Snape had mentioned but deemed that any material she would find would be extremely biased.

Content with her choices and the assumption that the books would last her at least a week in the orphanage, she paid for them, placed them in her bag (which she had password protected earlier) and left the Alley, back through the wall, and back through the Leaky Cauldron, which was quite full as it neared suppertime.

She silently observed her surroundings once she was back in Muggle London and made sure to walk at least five blocks away before hailing a taxi since she wanted to be sure no wizard or witch would see her performing magic, if they could even detect or notice it since it wasn’t performed with a wand. 

Sitting on the back bench of the vehicle, Casseopia focused on her magic and asked it to control the driver. Blue lightning - no, magic, and a simple command later, the young witch was on her way back to her own personal hell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo! That's chapter 3! I hope you all liked it! I believe it's the longest so far... I'm also almost done chapter 4 but inspiration has been a bitch lately so you might have to wait a little longer. In the meantime, go check out my other story! It's an original that I wrote earlier in the year! In my completely unbiased opinion, its an easy read and it is complete but I've only uploaded 8 chapters... hehe. So yeah! Go read it!!!!!
> 
> \- Evanna


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